


Sisters, Sprouts and Surprises

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Drama, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Faramir's Aunts are the best/worst and need more love, First Christmas, Meet the Family, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9002374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: There were many things Éomer did not expect to see on his doorstep on a winter’s Saturday morning, and one of those was his Brother-in-law’s aunts standing shoulder to shoulder. They hadn’t knocked on the door, seeming as though they’d simply planed to stand there and wait for him to leave the house for hockey. When Éowyn had said Faramir was from a family of psychics he’d not thought she meant it literally… OrÉomer spends his first christmas with Lothíriel's extended family and it goes about as well as you might expect.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Merry *insert festival of choice* Everyone!
> 
> This is partly a christmas gift to my dear friend and dictator superqueenoficeandfire and partly a gift to all the Lothíriel/Éomer shippers who may have had to put up with the number of times I've written Lothíriel cheating on Sigrid with Éomer as in my fanfics. Consider this his and my redemption arc lol
> 
> The family gets a bit complicated, so a quick run down to the new characters you might not have met yet/ I've made up/bothered to give names because Tolkien doesn't deem women important enough for that are:
> 
> Rían - Denethor's oldest Sister and Faramir and Boromir's biological Aunt.  
> Andreth // Andy - Denethor's second oldest Sister and Faramir and Boromir's biological Aunt. 
> 
> Imrahil (canon) - Denethor's brother-in-law, Faramir biological uncle, Lothíriel's father  
> Irviniel (canon)- imrahil's older sister, Faramir and Lothíriel's biological aunt. 
> 
> Elphir (canon) - Lothíriel's Oldest Brother  
> Erchirion (canon) - Lothíriel's 2nd Oldest Brother  
> Amrothos (canon) - Lothíriel's 3rd oldest brother 
> 
> Melda - Elphir's wife, Lothíriel's Sister-in-law  
> Alphros // Alfie (canon) - Elphir's oldest child, 13  
> Aleia - Elphir's yougest Child, 8
> 
> Miriel, 10 - Erchirion's daughter, he and his partner are separated and he has custody of their child. 
> 
>  
> 
> I know that Andreth and Rían are not biologically related to Lothíriel, but I like to imagine they've adopted that whole side of the family none the less; as it is christmas, after all!

There were many things Éomer did not expect to see on his doorstep on a winter’s Saturday morning, and one of those was his Brother-in-law’s aunts standing shoulder to shoulder. They hadn’t knocked on the door, seeming as though they’d simply planed to stand there and wait for him to leave the house for hockey. When Éowyn had said Faramir was from a family of psychics he’d not thought she meant it literally…

“Well, we’re less psychic and more emphatic,” said one of them. Éomer’s eyes bulged slightly. By Bema they really were mind readers!

“Empaths you stupid boy, Empaths,” tutted the other. She looked to be the older of the two, and was dressed in a far more formal style than her sister’s dungarees and plaid shirt combo.

“Yes yes, I’m Rían, I’m the oldest. This is Andreth she’s--”

“--call me Andy, everyone else does.”

“Yeah, alright look, that’s great and all that; but why are you here?” asked Éomer at last. 8am starts on Saturday mornings were enough as it was, he didn’t want to have to deal with… whatever was happening right now… on top.

“We heard from Faramir that you’re currently dating Lothíriel--”

“—and we sensed from Lothíriel that you’re also shagging her on a semi-regular basis--” 

“—she thinks you’re good at it, by the way--”

“—yes, you seem to be far better at brining her to orgasm than any of her previous partners.”

This… was not happening. None of this was happening. He was asleep, and he was going to wake up, and he was going to forget all about this nightmare. 

“Sorry, no, this is real--”

“--why would it not be real?” 

“Because,” began Éomer cautiously, “I’ve only met you once at my sister’s wedding and now you’re on my door step talking about my sex life?”

“Well there’s no need to be rude, we only came to invite you round to the family home for Christmas.” Bristled Rían 

“We heard that you would be spending it alone this year, and considering you’re family now, well, it wouldn’t do to exclude you from the celebration, would it?” added Andreth, with surprising kindness

“I’m—who told you I would be spending it alone?” he spluttered defensively. The two women gave him a piteous look.

“Éomer, your whole family is dead save for your sister who will be spending Christmas with us.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” He muttered

“So Rí and I thought it only proper to extend an invitation to you as well. It’s a whole family occasion, so Lothíriel and her immediate family will be there as well.” 

“You’ll love her aunt,” grinned Rían “she’s the life and soul of any party, you no doubt remember her from the wedding?”

Éomer did remember Ivriniel. How could he ever forget? He’d never seen anyone down a bottle of vodka that fast since his university days. There’d not even been any vodka at the wedding, she’d bought her own. 

“Right well, that’s settled then.” Chirped Andreth “We’ll see on the 25th then. Lothíriel has the details. Good luck in your hockey game, used to play myself.” 

“Aim for the shins. If they can’t run then they can’t score.” Added Rían seriously, and then the two of them left just a suddenly as they’d arrived. Éomer stood in his doorway, staring after them as he tried to process everything that had just happened. His brain began to quickly kick into gear once more the further away they seemed to get and he dug out of his phone from his pocket, not caring about whether he was waking anyone up or not.

“Faramir, what the _fuck_ just happened here?” 

“Oh no, they got you too huh?” came the tragic response down the phone. In the background he thought he could hear Éowyn’s pathetic groans from around a toilet bowl. She’d clearly been out the night before and was worse the wear for it, still, his sister’s regretful life choices were not of his concern right now.

“What do you mean, ‘got me too’? Who else have your aunts been terrorising?”

“Lothí called us an hour ago. I’m sorry, you’ve got no choice, if Aunt Rían and Auntie Andy have invited you there’s no way you’ll be able to duck out of it, you’ll just have to—yes Love I’ll hang up in a—no don’t it’s--”

“Piss off and go play hockey Éomer. It’s too early in the morning for all this bull shit. See you at Christmas.”

Éomer was about to respond but she’d already hung up on him _. Oh well_ he sighed. He’d call Lothíriel after the game and sort out the details. If Éowyn was going to be there as well, it couldn’t be that bad, right?

 

~*~

 

“You know it’s not too late to back out.” Lothíriel repeated yet again as they approached the door “We can just go back to your place, eat whatever junk you’ve got left in the freezer and watch Doctor Who or something.”

In truth. Éomer was actually pretty happy to be here now that it was all out in the open. He’d liked her family well enough when he’d met them previously, well, he liked her brothers and her father at least. Her aunts were still taking some getting used to, although they had been right that his previous plans have involved a lonely pizza for one and a Star Wars marathon… the thought had not actually been all that appealing. “You just want to have sex, that’s it, isn’t it?” he replied instead.

Lothíriel let out a groan as she banged her head against the pile of presents in her arms “I can’t believe they _actually_ said that to you.”

“I mean, you could have told me yourself. I’m not beyond flattery you know.”

“Shut up.”

“Better than _all_ your previous partners they said.” 

“I will kill you Pony Boy. I will do it and nobody will find your body.”

“I have no doubt in my mind about that.” He nodded seriously “But judging by what I went through on that doorstep, I think neither of us have a choice in this.”

“Fine.” She sighed, raising a hand to knock on the door, but typically it was opened before she’d even tried. Her Sister-in-law, Melda, was there; a combination of relief and continued panic screaming across her face.

“Thank the Gods Lothí, please get in here and sort it all out I don’t know what the fuc--flip to do!”

“Oh Gods no…” whined Lothíriel as she trudged into the house. She looked like she’d been hit in the face with complete misery and pain. Éomer could feel it too, and he was about as psychic as your average pencil sharpener.

“What’s happening?” whispered Éomer

“They’re arguing over when we can open presents. The kids wanted to open their stockings but Denethor wouldn’t let them until after the Queen’s Speech; but Imrahil says that’s not fair on them so Elphir said they could do it when Lothíriel got here, but Alfie just saw on facebook that his friends have all opened _their_ gifts which has set Aleia off too; I’m afraid you’re not too popular either at the moment, sorry. But Denethor and Rían are still trying to decide if main gifts should be done at the same time because that way it’s fair, but Denethor is still insisting on the whole Queen’s Speech deal and then we might be having dinner during that time _anyway_ because Andy hasn’t finished it yet despite all the prep I helped her do last night! So they’ve just all been yelling and complaining about it for the last half hour and I am going _insane_! Lovely to see you both again by the way.”

“There doesn’t seem to be a lot of shouting going on…” frowned Éomer. If anything the house was in complete silence. He couldn’t even hear his sister talking, who was usually the first to get involved in any argument or debate. 

“Oh no, well, in any _normal_ family that might be the case! But _oh no_ I had to marry into a bunch of mother-flipping psychics!” she snapped, shoving the door open to the living room and sure enough, there were the whole family glaring daggers at one another and looking as though they were playing the most aggressive game of charades ever. Limbs gesticulated wildly, as even the youngest family member began to get involved. She seemed to be throwing a huge tantrum, hands hitting out against her father’s legs as he tried to keep a hold on her. Melda strode forward and took her from Elphir and at last some actual words filled the room.

“It’s not fair! Even now, even now Auntie Lolly is here Denny-thor won’t let us open our presents it’s not fair Mum! It’s not faaiiiiir!” she whined.

“Éomer! Glad to see you could join us at last.” Called a surprisingly sober Éowyn from across the room, where she was sat curled up next to Faramir on a rather plush leather sofa. Boromir was sat on the floor next to them, a glass of what looked to be whiskey in his hands. 

“At last, another talker!” He added and everyone turned to stare at the new arrival.

“Oh, um, hello everyone.” He gulped, feeling rather put on the spot all of a sudden. “I’m Éomer, Éowyn’s brother, it’s so erm, lovely to be here?” he tried. There was silence and then Boromir burst into a bark of laughter.

“No it’s not it’s awful being here, nobody wants to be here but here we all are anyway.” He climbed to his feet and dragged Éomer over to a stool. Melda looked instantly relieved as everyone began talking out loud again.

Boromir handed him the glass of whiskey he’d been drinking “Trust me, Brother, you’ll be needing it.”

“I’m not actually your brother, Boromir.” He grinned affectionately, taking the drink anyway and taking a large sip.

“You’re my sister’s brother though, which makes you mine as well.” He grinned, slapping him on the back.

“So _you’re_ Auntie Lolly’s _boyfriend._ ” Said Erchirion’s daughter, Miriel, her anger at the lack of present opening completely forgotten now she had someone to tease.

“Yes, I suppose, I am that as well although really—“

“Do you love her then?” asked Alfie, throwing his phone to the floor 

“Are you going to marry her too?” Aleia asked conversationally

“Have you _slept with he_ r yet?” giggled Miriel, and Éomer was thanking the gods that Éowyn hadn’t reproduced yet because he didn’t think he could take much more of this barrage of questions.

“Kids, play nice.” Warned Melda and they let out a deep groan that rolled around the room.

“Spoil sport.” Pouted Amrothos.

Denethor seemed to be steadying himself before finally talking. “Éomer. It’s a pleasure to welcome you into our home.”

Éomer desperately tried not to think too loudly about how Denethor’s tone suggested his feelings were far less than welcoming, however he feared the consequences of such thoughts way too much.

“Try not to get yourself too worked up about it mate,” Boromir said condolingly, “I had to grow up with them and I’m the only one on the family without any psychic abilities. I managed just fine.”

“Right.” Said Éomer, still feeling rather unconvinced

“Can we do presents _now_?” whined Aleia, her brother pitching it with his own pleading.

“Stockings _only_ ,” ordered Denethor and everyone gave a deep groan, apart from the children of course, who were already ripping apart wrapping paper and making appropriate noises of excitement.

“I’ll tell you what Uncle Denethor, why don’t we open any presents from you until after the Queen’s speech, and you can open yours then too?” suggested Lothíriel. Éomer could see now that it was perhaps her family, and not her degree, which had made her so suited for a job in international relations.

“Fine,” sniffed Denethor, wise enough to know when to back down.

“Oh but you have to open ours at the same time!” said Éowyn quickly “So nobody do ours yet either.” 

Éomer frowned at his sister slightly, it wasn’t like Éowyn to be quite so persistent about such things, but, he reasoned, she was part of a new family now. Her and Faramir were bound to be starting their own traditions, and that seamed to involve joint presents.

“So, you’re the one who’s dating our little sister then.” Said Elphir coming over, his giant stature displacing Boromir with ease. He was quickly joined by the equally huge Amrothos, who sandwiched Éomer between them to prevent any escape. It seemed the opportunity to scare Éomer out weighed their duty of watching their children unwrap presents. Not that the kids minded when they had Amrothos and Imrahil to dote on them. 

“We want to know all about how you’re treating her.”

“And to let you know that if you upset her, we _will_ know about it.” 

Éomer threw Faramir a slightly panicked look. However the only reaction it got was Éowyn burst of raucous laughter. It seemed that Faramir _had_ told her about the time Éomer had drunkly shoved him against a wall and warned him to be good to his little sister of else he’d wake up with a hockey stick sticking out his… well… where a hockey stick should not be.

 _Oh great, so this is revenge._ He thought to himself 

 _Yep!_ Came Faramir’s voice.

This was going to be a very long day…

 

~*~

 

Lothíriel had quickly come to Éomer’s aid, and dispersed her brothers with such a show of strength that it left everyone without a shadow of a doubt over whether Lothíriel could handle herself or not. This did not call an end to Éomer’s problems however. At long last Andreth called them all in for dinner, at which point Éomer discovered he had been sat as far away from Lothíriel as was possible. Oh they had _tried_ to be clever about it, positioning him so he would be near his sister and Faramir, who needed to be as far from Denethor as possible it would seem, but it also put Éomer with the one person he’d been trying to avoid the whole time: Ivriniel.

“ _So_!” she sang, as she began pouring wine into a seemingly endless glass. “How did you and Lothíriel meet?”

“Well, the same place I first me all of you, at Éowyn and Faramir’s wedding.”

“Oh but there’s more to it then that I’m sure! You and I certainly had a _wonderful_ time together on that dance floor, but you didn’t come and find me afterwards for a night cap now did you?” she pouted over the brim of her glass. Éowyn gave out a stifled laugh that she quickly turned into a coughing.

“Well, no, we actually bumped into each other at the cinema a couple of times by coincidence.”

“Coincidence? No, no, no! No such thing, _trust me_ on this one. Lolly, were you out stalking this man per chance? Did you keep a track of him on Tinder? I hear everyone is doing it these days, Thranduil at work set me up an account and let me tell you, there are certainly a great number of young men out there looking for a cougar like me to show them a good time.”

Éomer wanted to respond, he felt like he needed to respond but he honestly had no idea how to. 

“Auntie, you know being a cougar isn’t usually seen as a good thing, right?” said Faramir cautiously, his hand reaching up on instinct to cover Éowyn’s mouth before she could put her foot in it.

“Nonsense.” She scoffed “Like I’m going to let a little thing like a seventieth birthday get in the way of my sex drive!”

Across the table Denethor spat out his wine, and opened his mouth to yell, but a combination of Rían’s kick to the shins and Andreth’s arrival from the kitchen put an end to it. She was carrying what had to be the largest bowl of Brussels Sprouts Éomer had ever seen. She must have cleared out the whole supermarket and then some. 

“Oh no Éomer, don’t worry I buy them straight from the farm!” she grinned, setting the bowl down in the middle of the table and started to spoon them out to people.

 _She’s got a crush on the farmer,_ came Faramir’s voice, a small grin on his face.

 _A bit more than a crush at this point,_ interjected Lothíriel knowingly.

 _There’s a betting pool as to when she’ll actually ask her out if you want in,_ added Amrothos. Éomer looked anxiously over at the woman in question. He wasn’t sure what counted as whispered gossip when it came to voices in your head. Which was not something he’d thought he’d ever need to contemplate.

“I know you’re all talking about me.” Said Andreth simply “I don’t know what you’re saying but if any of you actually want to eat then you can stop it right now.”

“Sorry Auntie,” sighed Erchirion “Now pass me the sprouts, I’ve a title to maintain.”

“You only won it last year because I was at the in-law’s place.” Scoffed Elphir, who quickly began to back pedal on his words at the look Melda was giving him.

“Oh please boys, let your father show you how it’s really done.” Grinned Imrahil, grabbing the offered bowel with the kind of gusto never associated with sprouts.

“Sorry, what's going on here?” asked Éomer looking over at Lothíriel as the voice of reason.

“Every year we have an annual contest to see who can eat the most sprouts. The boys get very competitive over it, it’s not a pretty sight.” She grimaced

“Come on Lothí, I don’t expect you to understand the workings of men.” snorted Amrothos “This is not about who can keep their dress clean, it’s about pride and honour.” Éomer’s eyes automatically shot to Éowyn. He knew his sister would never be able to resist such a goading. She’d been taking on men like Amrothos her whole life, she’d won more eating contests than anyone he knew, and he would never forget that night he spent in A&E by her side after she’d crashed her motorbike trying to prove that women were better then men when it came to the race track. She’d won, of course, but it still didn’t negate the fact she’d nearly obliterated her arm in the process.

However she seemed to completely let it slide, passing the offered bowel onto an eager looking Boromir instead. “Sorry Andy, _really_ not a fan of sprouts at the moment.”

“But, but they’re being all… laddish about it?” gaped Éomer, pointing accusingly at them “If I did that you’d string me up by my ears and have my hair shaved off!” 

“Of course, naturally I would! But I’m not fool enough to want to eat three bowls of Brussels sprouts just to prove a point.” She did indeed look very green at the concept, but this was still very out of character for her. He turned to Faramir for some kind of explanation but he just shrugged.

“Don’t worry Éomer, the boys will learn not to underestimate women.” Smiled Ivriniel, all too knowingly “Now just help yourself to turkey and leave the rest of the rabble to their thing. You and I still have much to discuss.” She added, stroking her hand down his arm. She quickly snapped it away from him at the look Lothíriel gave her, and Éomer feared at what unspoken words had gone with it.

He obediently tucked in though, but kept a watchful eye on those family members taking part in the contest. Lothíriel and Faramir seemed the only two (other than himself and Éowyn) who weren’t interested in the partaking, but they still kept a running commentary with plenty of back story to competitions past. Surprisingly, Denethor _had_ taken up the challenge, muttering about tradition, mainly in relation to how Faramir was breaking it, but had given up after the first serving. Aleia, Alfie and Miriel all made a great show of competing against their parents but soon found themselves agreeing with Éowyn that no amount of pride or glory was worth eating such a horrendous substance, and went back to their own Roast Potato Eating Contest. A much nicer task all considered.

The rest of the family were not so easily beaten though. Boromir went through sprouts as though they were chocolate buttons, and Imrahil seemed to positively inhale them. Rían was terrifying though, she was going through them at a far more sedate pace than any of the others, but when Erchirion and Elphir dropped out she just kept on going as calmly as before. Andreth gave up once she realised there was no beating her sister, but Melda only took the defeat of her husband as more reason to keep on going.

There were three of them left now, and silent bets were taking place as to who would win. Éomer thought that, this time around, Melda’s lack of psychic ability could only be a benefit to her, as it seemed that Amrothos was trying his hardest to psychically psych out his aunt. However it was Rían who prevailed, leaving Amrothos rushing to the bathroom to throw up. Melda however, just kept. On. Going.

The two women sat opposite one another. There were four sprouts left each. Éomer had never seen such determination. It was true, the stomachs of men were far too weak to deal with this kind of ordeal. He watched in silent horror as Rían pushed a sprout into her mouth, then another, then another. She hesitated on the last, closing her eyes tight and trying to force herself to eat it; however something held her back.

“Come on Auntie Rían don’t give up now!” chanted Boromir. 

“Come on Mum! You can do it!” cried Alfie as Melda picked up her own sprouts and began to shove them into her mouth as best she could. There was a cold dead look in her eyes as she stared Rían down. 

“You’ve got this Babe, you’ve got this,” soothed Elphir, rubbing his wife’s shoulders. She looked at the last sprout with a solid determination.

“If she eats that, then she’d won,” declared Denethor, eyeing his sister with some low level of disappointment as she threw her fork down on the plate in defeat.

Melda shoved Elphir away and with a deep growl picked up the last sprout and squished it into her mouth. There was a moment’s complete silence as she chewed on it, and then with one gulp it all went down. She rose to her feet triumphantly as her children cheered her name! 

Rían shook her head in shame but congratulated the victor none the less, “I’m glad to concede to such a worthy winner.” She answered, shaking hands.

“I’m just happy it didn’t go to one of the boys again.” Melda replied, “Not sure I could stand the car journey back.”

“Not sure how we’ll be doing in the car back anyway now that you’ve got all those in your system.” Laughed Elphir, giving her a kiss and grimacing as he pulled away “Your breath doesn’t half smell.”

“Look who’s talking Mr Gives Up After Twenty!” laughed Melda, giving him a playful shove. There was a brief pause in which Éomer could tell a hundred lewd jokes were all shot out at Elphir’s expense.

“And to the victor, the spoils!” chimed Andreth, coming back in from the kitchen having cleared all the plates. In her hands she carried what had to be the largest Christmas pudding Éomer had ever seen. It was doused in a bright blue flame and would be cause for calling the fire brigade on any other occasion.

“Told you,” sang Ivriniel “This family doesn’t just allow _anyone_ to marry into it.”

Éomer found her tone just that little bit too suggestive for his liking, however he decided it best to ignore it. Especially when there was a bucket of homemade brandy butter going around.

 

~*~

 

The Queen’s speech ended at last, and they were finally able to open their presents from Denethor. Éomer had not been optimistic that he would get something good, considering Denethor’s actual family had all received some form of book. There had been an awkward moment when the presents were handed out and Faramir had only one, very small, gift and Boromir a pile reaching up to his knees. The brothers exchanged knowing looks as though this were a regular occurrence that had simply turned to in-joke over the years. Éowyn shared a similar amused look when she was given a large bottle of mead, the same kind as Éomer had been gifted. Clearly Denethor didn’t think their family were up to much reading.

Éomer was more excited by Éowyn’s gift to him though. She had always been awful at gift giving, she’d put so much thought into everything and then get it all wrong none the less. It had become a bit of a joke over the years, and he’d started to think she was doing it deliberately, especially when Aleia ripped open her gift to find a rather hideous Barbie pink ‘Top Notch Cousin’ jumper.

There seemed to be a bit of a theme in that sense. Rían had a mug with a hand painted floral decoration declaring her to be ‘the best Vodka Aunt’ around. Imrahil had a cool box informing the world that he was ‘One Cool Grampa’. Amrothos and Andreth had matching rainbow coloured TShirts pointing out that they were ‘The Gay Cousin’.

Melda gave Faramir and Éowyn a shrewd look as she unwrapped a mug about being a fellow Wine Mum. However for Éomer it didn’t really sink in until he cautiously unwrapped his own present. The label had taken him somewhat by surprise and suspicion. It had read: _Because I know you’ll be just as good as him_.

It was a mug. Same as everyone else’s, but instead of reading ‘No. 1 Brother’ it read ‘Best Uncle.’ He looked over at her, then at Boromir who’d just unwrapped an identical mug. It all begun to click into place; the vomiting, the lack of alcohol, the disgust at food…

“I’m going to be a grandfather.” Denethor murmured from across the room, where he sat in his armchair staring down at an embroidered pillow.

Éowyn shuffled up closer to Faramir as he put a gentle hand on her belly, “Merry Christmas!” They said in unison.

There was a roar of excitement as Boromir leaped to his feet to go an embrace them and soon everything was filled with noise. Everyone rushed over to congratulate and interrogate them, Melda offering a thousand words of advice as Aleia asked a thousand more questions. Even Denethor seemed happy, his eyes brimming with tears as he and Faramir seemed to have a silent conversation. Éomer looked over at Lothíriel to see if he was correct, and was met with a smile that was the brightest he’d ever seen. It made Éomer’s heart flip inside of him to see just how much joy his Sister’s happiness had bought her.

 _It’ll be you two next!_ Came Ivriniel’s voice, and for once Éomer did not feel the need to be embarrassed or ashamed. He honestly could not wait for it. He’d never felt like settling down before, but the thought of raising a family, giving his niece or nephew a cousin to play with, of seeing Lothíriel as happy and as excited as Éowyn was, well. It seemed like the perfect Christmas present.

_Well then, yes, Éomer; I will marry you._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Liked this? Please let me know via kudos/comments or on Tumblr where I'm mrsmarymorstan. I am always up for bouncing around fic prompts as well =)


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